


Ride With the Moon in the Dead of Night

by Cadensaurus (orphan_account)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Barebacking, Bloodplay, Knotting, M/M, Vampires, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 13:24:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8329537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Cadensaurus
Summary: A 2009!fic where Dan's a vampire and Phil's a werewolf, and it's a full moon, and their nocturnal instincts come out to play. Set as in-canon as possible. Title taken from an anon prompt on Tumblr.





	

The first time that Phil brought it up was in late September. He was fiddling with his hoodie, biting at it, and Dan thought it was the most adorable thing that Phil had done in, well, the last ten minutes. Ten minutes prior he'd been smiling at Dan while Dan told him all about his day, so that was the cutest thing that Phil could have done. To be perfectly honest, Phil's always cute and adorable. Dan has a hard time picking just one time.

But Phil looked nervous, and Dan had no idea why, because Phil never had to be nervous around Dan and Phil knew that.

“Look, Dan, I need to talk to you about something,” Phil began. “If I go a little bit quiet – and I might not – around, say, October 4th, don't be surprised.”

“What? Why?” Dan asks, sitting up more alertly. He stares at Phil. “Is something wrong?” His mind jumps to all sorts of things he doesn't know about Phil – maybe a death in the family's anniversary or a bad breakup with an ex, who knows.

“Well, the thing is – um. There's no real easy way to put this. But you know how things like faeries and shit exist? They're not super common but they exist?”

“Yeah, and vampires and werewolves and incubi and succubi, I know all that. What, you a faerie? Because I already knew you were halfway there, Phil,” Dan teases, and Phil laughs there, a genuine laugh.

“Fuck off, Howell, should have never told you I was bisexual. No, um. Actually – I'm a werewolf.”

Dan blinks, googles, “Full moon 2009.” Huh. Full moon's coming up on the 4th of October. No wonder Phil might go quiet. He'll be turning. He doesn't know a lot about werewolves, but he does know it means increased sexual energy.

He wonders if Phil has an outlet for that energy and a flare of jealousy washes through him before he can stop it. “I'm bisexual too,” he blurts out, before he can stop himself.

It stops the conversation cold in its tracks.

“What?” Phil asks. “That's your response to, 'Dan, I'm a werewolf'?”. Dan shrugs helplessly before it even occurs to him that he can tell Phil something else. It literally had flown out of his head.

“Only if you can accept the fact that I'm a vampire.” Dan says. Phil blinks at him.

“Shut up, you're making fun of me now.”

Dan shakes his head, opens his mouth as wide as he can, bares his teeth, lets his fangs grow until they're prominent. He runs his tongue over the tips of them, stares at Phil across Skype, across the country.

“Well, shit,” Phil comments. He sits back. “Guess I have no reason to worry about telling you that I'm a supernatural entity.”

“Nope. You and I are one and the same.”

“So, hold up. You're bisexual? And you're just telling me this now?” Phil asks, apparently more interested in this factor. “So just how much of your flirting is real?”

“What, with you?” Dan asks, surprised. He'd thought Phil had known he was bisexual and that the flirting was all real. After all, he's answered on dailybooth that he's bisexual, and he's never not made it clear he was flirting.

“Yeah.”

“Um, all of it?” Dan says, suddenly shy. Phil stares at him. “I mean, I thought – I thought you knew? Have I fucked up?”

“God, no, Dan, you're fine. I mean, I flirt back, right? I just thought you were flirting with me because I was flirting with you, I didn't think it was serious.” Phil says. His smile splits his face now. “But I mean, I like you. I _like_ you.”

“Yeah, Phil. I like you too. A lot. I mean, you're like the perfect dream.” Dan says. God, how cheesy does he sound. Who the fuck even says that? _You're like the perfect dream?_ Kill him now, he sounds like a heroine out of some romantic novel.

“Aw, Dan,” Phil says, grinning at him. “You're not half-bad yourself. Pretty good, in fact.”

“So what you're saying is I have your permission to flirt more with you?” Dan asks, cautiously.

“Please do, you give me a good reason to wake up in the morning,” Phil comments. “I like talking to you and when a cute guy is flirting with you, it makes you really enjoy your day.”

Dan smiles shyly at him, glances away. “Yeah, you can flirt with me too if you'd like.”

“Yeah? Like telling you how sexy you look when you get all flustered?” Phil asks, voice going low and dangerous, and how the hell is Dan supposed to cope?

Dan's halfway hard in his jeans and he dares meet Phil's eyes in the monitor. Phil's staring at him, and he looks so predatory at that moment that Dan has no doubt in his mind that Phil's telling the truth about being a werewolf.

“So tell me more about being a werewolf. I mean, I don't know much about it.” Dan says.

“Well, I mean, you know the basics, on the full moon we get hairier, teeth change, loss of control of ourselves if we're not careful. Usually I lock my door and try to sleep it out – never happens. Insomnia. I just lie in bed and toss and turn and try not to howl, because I'd wake up my family.”

“Poor thing.” Dan says. “And, um. The one thing I do know about werewolves – increased sexual appetite?”

Phil blinks at him. “Yeah. That.”

Dan pauses. “Do you, um. Have an outlet for it?”

Phil bites his lip. “I have in the past. I mean – when I was dating, I did. I've tried to avoid one-night stands. Feels dirty and cheap. I mean, I've had a couple. I don't wake up feeling good about myself after them.”

Dan's chest loosens a little. “So you're not going to go out and just, um, screw someone?”

“You offering?” Phil asks, softly, somewhere between teasing and serious. Dan swallows. He's fully hard in his jeans now and just wants to unzip and start jerking off right there, take care of himself.

“If I could, I would.” Dan utters softly, and Phil breathes in slow and deep, and says nothing. Dan watches his face go through a myriad of expressions, want and concern and finally placidity.

“I bet you would,” Phil says, and his voice is again dangerous and a little rough. It seems their admission that they like each other has him worked up too.

“Try me, I bet I could take whatever you give me.” Dan says, trying to be brave. He's only eighteen, and Phil's twenty-two, and Phil's got life experience on him and he's a little lost, and he wants to prove himself to Phil.

Phil bites his lip. “There's one other thing I failed to mention. Um. Knotting.”

Dan fuzzily hears the word, recognises it as something he should have remembered about werewolves. After all, that's all the rage in gossiping about when you've had sex with a werewolf – their knot. The fact that they stay inside of you for like, forty-five minutes afterwards. The fact that they can go for up to an hour to start with. The fact that a werewolf is harder than anything you'll ever feel, that their dick grows bigger on the full moon. It's all lurid tales that Dan's heard in passing.

“Oh?” Dan murmurs.

“Yeah, I, uh. You know what it is?” Phil asks. Dan nods. “Yeah, that happens too. It's – uhm. Well, to be perfectly honest, it's one of the best feelings in the world.”

Dan swallows, wonders just how long he can stay this hard without doing something about it.

“So tell me about being a vampire.” Phil comments. “I mean, I don't know a lot about them.”

Dan sneaks a hand down, out of sight, and presses it to the edge of his cock, just presses, and fucking sighs with relief at some pressure, at some stimulation. He squeezes, breathes in deeply through his nose.

“Well, for one, I _currently_ drink animal blood once a month. It tastes disgusting but it does the job. Pig or cow blood is the best tasting of animals, so that's what we try to get. Horse blood has an interesting flavour,” Dan comments. “Tangy.”

Phil snorts a noise. “You say currently. You've drunk human blood in the past?”

Dan pauses. “Yeah, uh. My ex. She let me drink from her. I told her I was a vampire about three months into the relationship and after about six months, she decided she was comfortable enough with letting me drink from her. So for about two and a half years I was getting human blood. But before that it was animal blood and now that I'm single, it's back to animal blood. I'm not going to go hunt innocent victims.”

Phil smiles at him, again, predatory. “What if I let you bite me?”

Dan stares at Phil's neck, at Phil's beautiful neck, which is pale and he would find the pulsepoint and bite down, bite through that beautiful skin and drink from him, let Phil go light-headed and grab at him and sway, and he'd taste delicious, Dan has no doubt in that, Phil would taste amazing.

He shakes himself from that thought process. “That's dangerous. What if I couldn't stop?”

“You stopped with your ex for two and a half years, I have faith in you.” Phil purrs, and Dan presses the palm of his hand harder against his dick.

“I have to go,” Dan gasps out, and Phil looks surprised.

“What – was I too forward?” Phil asks, apologetic. “I just – you're so _sexual_ , Dan, whether you realise it, you flirt all the time, and now that I know that you're interested, I wanted to play a little with you.”

Dan squeezes his cock and does his best to suppress a groan. “No, I just need to go jerk off because you're killing me here, Phil.”

Phil smirks at him. “I'm not doing too hot over here myself, Dan.”

“Have I mentioned lately that I hate you?” Dan asks, pushing one shaky hand through his hair. “So unless you want me to start start going at it right now, I have to let you go.”

“I'll let you go, but you should think of me,” Phil says, smiling at Dan now.

“Who the fuck do you think I've been thinking about for the last few months?” Dan asks, and Phil blinks, then starts to laugh.

“I can't say I've been entirely the picture of innocence myself, Dan,” and somehow that sends a flush through Dan, that Phil's thought of him, that Dan has been a particular focus of Phil's naughty thoughts.

“I really gotta go,” Dan gasps, and Phil smiles more broadly, waves, and then the call ends, and Dan's already unzipping and shoving his hand into his jeans.

 

It turns out, as luck would have it, that Dan and Phil are definitely suited for each other. They meet up – they kiss – they agree on trying to date, and it turns out that they are definitely compatible.

Phil brings up the topic of his being a werewolf again as the new year approaches. “So, um. You know that London gathering we're going to? It's a full moon that night.”

“Oh,” Dan says. They've only started having sex in the last month. “What does that mean for us?”

“Well, uh, I was just wondering if you still wanted to come with me to the gathering because I'm probably going to be all over you. Like, I won't be able to help it.”

“As if I'd stop you.” They've been less than discreet – Dan's left hickies on Phil's neck that have been evident in his videos and he's even tweeted out _Uma Thurman just watched me have sex_ , and Phil had been laughing and chastising at the same time.

“As long as you know what you're up against. I mean, we'll be going back to my place afterwards.”

“Where you're going to hopefully ravish me?” Dan asks, bright and bold, and Phil licks his lips.

“I shouldn't, it's too soon,” Phil says softly. “I mean – I'd be knotting you.”

Dan audibly groans. “I'd _love_ to feel that.” Phil does his best to fix Dan with a glare, even though heat rises in his gaze. “And if it makes you feel better, I wanna taste you. I wanna bite you and drink your blood and taste just how good you'd taste.”

Phil looks at Dan, angles his neck and silkily strokes his fingers, long and precise, presses two fingers right at his jugular, gives Dan a half-lidded gaze. “Right here?” He asks, and Dan hisses, feels his fangs elongate without his even trying.

He swallows hard. “You're a jerk,” he says, trying to retract his fangs.

“You're the one who said you wanted to bite me. I'd let you, you know,” Phil says. “I trust you.”

Dan wants so much at that moment to be at Phil's. “It's not even been two months,” he says softly. “You'd trust me to bite you?”

“I've known you longer than two months,” Phil says, mock-offended. “I know you pretty well. You're my best friend and my boyfriend.”

Dan's heart swells. “You're my best friend too,” he says, because he's never really had a best friend, and Phil really is that, and that's almost more important Phil being his boyfriend. “And you're a really great boyfriend.”

“Not as good as you,” Phil flatters him, and Dan blushes.

“So. London gathering.” Dan says, softly.

“We'll see what happens?” Phil says, just as soft. “Trust you.”

“Trust you too,” Dan murmurs, stares at Phil, who is a million miles away from him at that moment, too far, and longs to feel Phil inside him, to feel Phil kissing him. Longs to bite Phil, to be the aggressor and pin Phil down, taste Phil pulsing into his mouth.

They stare at each other, dizzily and wordless, and it takes a minute before one of them can bring up a topic to talk about to get them back on track, and even then, Dan can't stop thinking about London, about the full moon.

 

London comes. The full moon comes. Their party comes and goes and Dan and Phil get tipsy and are too grabby with each other but don't really care, and Dan stares at Phil too long under the full moon, gazes.

“Show me your mouth,” he murmurs, half-drunk. “Wanna see your teeth.” Phil's got his arms snaked around Dan and is kissing his shoulder, and Phil pulls back and bares his teeth. They're not unlike Dan's, elongated fangs, the rest of his teeth sharper too.

It'd hurt to get bitten by that, Dan thinks foggily, pulls Phil in for a kiss, tongue kisses him, runs his tongue across those teeth briefly before tangling with Phil's tongue, letting it grace across his own, pulling back.

“Back to your place?” Dan asks, a little desperately, horny. He can't be blamed. He's eighteen and young and Phil looks so good right now, that really, it's amazing he's not pulling at Phil's clothes as it is.

“Yeah,” Phil groans, and they take a cab, making out busily, hands groping over their upper halves, over clothing, grabbing at upper arms and hair and mussing each other up, barely breaking apart until it becomes apparent that they're at Phil's home, and then Phil stuffs too much money in the cabbie's hand, tells him, “Keep the change,” and Dan drags him out of the cab and kisses him under the full moonlight.

“Take me upstairs and fuck me,” Dan groans into Phil's mouth. “Wanna feel it. Wanna feel you knotting me.”

“Only if you bite me,” Phil hisses out as Dan gropes his ass firmly. “Do it, Dan.”

“Yeah, sure,” Dan says. He'd do anything that Phil asked him to at this point. His brain's far too addled to be realistic.

So they climb the staircase, still kissing, to Phil's room, where they fall onto Phil's bed, and Dan's on top, lazily thrusting into Phil's groin, hard as a rock, and Phil pulls back.

Phil looks at Dan with a lingering gaze. “How many people have you bitten?”

“Three,” Dan murmurs. “I bit my cousin when I was eight. He was ten and wanted to know what it felt like and I was young and stupid. Then when I was thirteen, I bit my friend Jennifer because she wanted to know what it felt like too, and then Erin, my ex.”

“Did they all taste the same?” Phil asks.

Dan shivers. “No, they all tasted different. My cousin tasted bland – probably because we were related. Jennifer tasted like candy. I wanted to drink her forever. She was hard to pull away from – she was really light-headed when I did. Erin tasted like good wine does. She was sweet and a little sharp.”

Phil stretches out beneath him, turns his neck. “What do you think I'll taste like?”

Dan closes his eyes and breathes in slow and deep. “I've got no idea.” He feels Phil's hands tangle into his hair and bring him in close, bring him so that his face is resting against Phil's neck.

“Go on, do it,” Phil encourages him. Dan kisses Phil's throat, can practically smell the heat coming off Phil for how pent up Phil is.

“So I've heard werewolves can last for like an hour,” Dan comments, trying to get back into control.

“Yeah, we can, when we're not so horny it feels like we've got blue balls. Which I do, trust me, I'm not going to last an hour. I'll be lucky to last twenty minutes. You've got me so worked up, Dan. You're like nothing I've never experienced.” Phil murmurs.

“Good or bad?” Dan asks. Phil tightens his fingers into Dan's hair as Dan bites gently, scraping his teeth over Phil's throat.

“Amazing.” Phil groans. “Bite me, Dan. Come on. I wanna feel you do it.”

Dan swallows, even as his fangs elongate again, and he rubs his tongue over them. He's got to be careful not to drain Phil. He's never been close enough to doing that with anybody, but he's also never been this horny, this built up, this wanton with anybody.

Then he opens his mouth, angles his teeth, places them over Phil's jugular, and bites down severely, hard enough to puncture the skin. He hears Phil's gasp, feels Phil grabbing onto him and grabbing into his back.

“Ah-h!” Phil hisses. “Hurts.” A moment later, he sighs. “Feels good too.”

Dan closes his eyes, lets Phil's blood flow into his mouth, tastes him. Phil tastes of richness, of thick syrupy sweetness, just this side of tangy though, flowing into his mouth, and Dan swallows down his first mouthful.

“Fuck, Dan,” Phil whines, whimpers, struggles briefly beneath Dan before going limp, fingers no longer clawing at Dan's back, instead coming to rest at his sides.

Dan takes in Phil, tastes him greedily, tries not to drink too deeply, too fast. He wants this to go on forever. Phil tastes even better than Jennifer had, better than Erin had. It's probably all in Dan's head, but Phil tastes like what he imagines Heaven to be.

He sucks, suckles, draws blood up into his mouth, smears it around and laps at it, tonguing it, then bites down hard again and Phil groans.

Dan gulps greedily, feeling the flow of blood into his mouth, and he wants to taste Phil every single day. “Femoral artery,” he hisses out. “Wanna bite you there. That way I can taste you without leaving a mark on the camera.”

Phil laughs, a high-pitched sound. “Femoral artery,” he says. “Your teeth so close to my dick.”

“I'd never bite your dick,” Dan promises, sucking up the sweet blood flowing out of Phil. He swallows taste after taste and his head spins. “You gotta tell me when to stop, because I don't know if I can stop, Phil,” he adds.

“Soon. Not yet, but soon.” Phil says, and Dan lets Phil's blood fill his mouth, lets it linger on his tongue, memorises the taste. He swallows again, mouth smeared with blood, knowing that when he kisses Phil, Phil will taste himself on Dan's tongue and mouth.

Dan sucks in greedily, wrenching Phil's hair to expose his throat better, bites deeper, until Phil finally gasps out, “Stop, stop,” and Dan whines, nurses from the bite, tasting a few more drops, even as Phil says more sharply, “Dan, stop,” and Dan finally yanks away, licking his lips, swallowing down the last remnants of Phil.

He stares at Phil. “You taste amazing,” he says softly, eyes flitting down to the still-bloody puncture mark on Phil's neck. “Wait,” he says, and leans down, licks it, letting the healing salve of his saliva cover the mark so that it will close up faster, heal sooner. One last taste of blood from Phil too, a singular droplet that Dan doesn't swallow, lets lay on his tongue.

He kisses Phil desperately then, and Phil lets out a muffled noise of surprise. “Fuck me,” Dan begs. “Wanna feel you coming inside me.”

Phil's rough with him then, even for as dizzy as he must be from blood loss, and he grabs Dan, flips them, shoves Dan face-first down in the mattress. “Lie still,” he hisses, and Dan feels Phil aggressively pulling off his clothes, until Dan's naked, hears Phil undressing himself.

Dan can't help, he twists and turns to look at Phil naked. Phil naked is glorious. He pauses though. “I thought you said you got hairier under the full moon?” He asks.

“Shut up, my arms do, anyways,” Phil says, blushing, and Dan breaks into laughter. Because Phil is exactly as hairy as he is normally, which is to say, not much, his chest hair sparse, the only real thatch of hair that he has around the base of his dick.

“Okay then, werewolf,” Dan teases, and Phil pushes him back down.

“Don't wanna take my time with you tonight. Just wanna get inside you, is that okay?” Phil asks. Dan knows what he means. He's that horny too.

“Grab the lube,” Dan agrees. “Fuck me hard. Knot me.” He hears Phil's low intake of breath there. “Wanna feel you inside me after you've knotted,” he dares add.

Phil reaches for his bedside table, grabs the bottle of lube, flips the cap open, and Dan hears the faint gel of it as it squirts into Phil's hand, as he slicks himself up, and drops it next to them on the bed.

Then he's pulling Dan onto his hands and knees and wrapping his lubed hand around Dan's cock. “This might hurt a bit,” Phil says, as he positions himself, sinks inside steadily, even as he starts to jerk off Dan.

It hurts – Phil is hard as a rock, quite literally, thicker than normal, and Dan arches and turns his head and bites his own wrist, whining.

“Sorry, sweetness,” Phil says, sinking home, and he holds steady while Dan adjusts around him, feeling open and exposed. Dan's head hangs down as Phil jerks him off, and he feels so full that he thinks it's not possible to be this open to someone.

“Don't be sorry,” Dan groans. “I wanted to feel this,” he reminds Phil. Phil shudders, thrusts shallowly inside him, and grips his waist.

Then Phil starts to move. He starts out slow and careful, despite being as horny as Dan, and Dan can only attribute that as a testament to how much Phil cares about him that he's trying to be careful even now, but every thrust is rough and sharp and just this right side of hurting, for as stretched as Dan is, and Dan stuffs his face into the pillow and moans.

“Please, harder,” he babbles out, into the fabric, and Phil can't even understand him, but it doesn't matter, because Phil's slipping and sliding faster and harder, still jerking him off, squeezing his waist with his free hand, then rubbing up and down Dan's arched spine, tangling in his hair, tugging, letting go.

Dan groans. He's so heady from tasting Phil, from their making out in the cab ride home, from everything all night, that he's not going to last long. His orgasm is right there, and he doesn't know if he can take Phil fucking him for twenty or thirty minutes after he's come, and he wants to feel that so badly, because it sounds like sensory overload and he's kind of interested in that.

He twists under Phil's touch, thrusts eagerly into Phil's stroking. “Right there,” he moans, when Phil rubs his thumb over the head of his cock. “Just like that, yeah,” he pants. Phil thrusts in deep, and he's so much thicker than normal that Dan wants it to always be the full moon.

He's got to take advantage of this as much as possible. It feels so good. His head reels, and he pants again, sucking in air. He licks his lips, tastes the last vestiges of Phil's blood lining them, and then his orgasm hits him, crashing through him.

He comes, letting out a long moan into Phil's pillow to muffle himself, spasming tight around Phil, and Phil groans.

Dan thinks he blacks out for a minute or two; when he comes to, Phil's still gripping him, having wiped off his hand on his thigh or something, because now both hands are around his waist, and Phil's going hard and fast, the bed rocking.

“So tight, so sweet, so good,” Phil's assuring him, and Dan limply holds himself up on his forearms, rocking weakly against Phil's dick sliding in and out of him.

“Come,” Dan begs, and Phil thrusts long and hard inside of him, rubbing his prostate, too much, making Dan twitch. Dan squirms underneath Phil, gripping his sheets and trying not to moan too loudly, even as Phil fucks him harder and faster, panting, moaning Dan's name low in Dan's ear, leaning in close.

Then suddenly Phil pulls out of Dan, flips Dan on his back, shoves Dan's legs up over his shoulders and slams back inside of him, and Dan arches up and bites back his noise of pleasure.

“Coming,” Phil groans, a gutteral, raw noise, fierce and ferocious, and then he's coming in pulses, and Dan feels Phil swelling inside him, stretching him out further, and Dan whimpers, feels the fluttering of Phil's come inside him, until Phil's carefully letting Dan's legs come down from around his shoulders, and Dan wraps his legs around Phil gingerly.

“Christ,” Phil gasps out, and he does his best not to collapse on top of Dan, managing to land on his elbow instead. His chest is sticky with sweat, and Dan can feel the swell of Phil's knot inside him, feel the stickiness of his own come on his chest.

“So,” Phil breathes out heavily, shifting, and Dan feels Phil, still hard, moving inside him. “What did you want to do for the next, oh, thirty or forty minutes?”

Dan runs his hands over Phil's back. “We could always make out some more,” he suggests. “I could never get bored of that.”

He's so full, and Phil's not going anywhere soon, and Phil muffles a laugh into his neck.

“Tonight was wild,” Phil breathes out. “But I don't think I'd want to have done it with anybody but you. I'm crazy about you, Dan, you know that?”

“Yeah, right back at you,” Dan says, trying to get comfortable with a cock in his ass, not moving, as Phil rolls them so they're side by side. Phil kisses him softly, plays with a strand of hair.

“You're sticky.”

“Gonna be stickier when you actually pull out.” Dan comments. “How you feeling? How light-headed are you? Did I drink too much?”

“I think that's why I came so soon,” Phil murmurs. “You drinking from me built me up. It felt so good.”

“You tasted amazing. I'd drink you again if you'd let me,” Dan murmurs back. “If I didn't know it was too soon. You need time to recover.”

Phil strokes his hair, nudges his hips forwards until they're flush thigh to thigh, and Dan closes his eyes. He wonders what it would be like to try to fall asleep with Phil deep inside him.

“Let's just lie here and kiss,” Dan suggests. So they do that, exchanging soft, little, sweet kisses between them, stroking at each other's cheeks and hair and shoulders, arms and hips and ribs, all their soft spots, and eventually Phil starts to soften inside him, slides out with a sticky, wet noise, and Dan gets up to clean up, feeling come leaking out of him.

When he comes back to bed, Phil's in nothing but his boxers and Dan strips down to the same, lets Phil fold an arm over him, exhausted.

Phil mumbles something that Dan can't make out, but he sounds fond, and Dan doesn't think it really quite matters, so he closes his eyes, murmurs, “Love you,” hears Phil make a soft sound in his throat, and then he sinks into the blackness of sleep, content and warm and safe.

 


End file.
